


I Don't Know What I Would Do

by SoulofaWinchester67



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-12
Updated: 2014-09-12
Packaged: 2018-02-17 01:43:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2292320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoulofaWinchester67/pseuds/SoulofaWinchester67
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Imagine Dean lying next to you and comforting you after he heard you crying out for him in your sleep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Don't Know What I Would Do

  _The drumming noise in my skull grew louder and louder as I ran. My head turned to peer behind me, fear taking hold when I saw the flash of a tall, gray-skinned being, zipping past a tree. I knew a wendigo hunt would be too much for me by myself, and I should have had the boys follow me. But it was too late for that now, and as I looked back around, my feet carried me straight over the edge of an embankment, leading to the rushing river below._

_Cold enveloped me moments later, the water filling my mouth. The temperature chilled me to the bone, and I fought to regain my footing in the current. At last the suffocating water left me as my head broke the surface and my lungs burned as I gasped in a breath. The gruesome, hair-raising roar of the wendigo met my ears and I looked up to see it, standing at the top edge of the embankment. As the scream-like roar cut off its eyes focused on me and I fought desperately to get up the other edge of the muddy embankment, my stomach filling with ice._

_I was going to die._

_The boys had no idea where I was. They thought I was back in my home town, visiting my parents' graves. And for good reason too, I had told them my hometown was searching for me, ever since the news had gotten out about my disappearance. It was a complete lie of course, but neither Sam or Dean had thought to fact check. I had just said I'd go home to smooth things over and I'd be back in a week or two, no harm done. I was almost glad to leave the suffocating nature of the bunker, I could feel the tension just rolling off of Dean in waves. We'd gotten into a huge fight, about the hunt I was now on, and he'd basically told me that he wouldn't allow me to go. I wasn't one to take orders of any kind from him, so naturally we'd started yelling at each other. After a very heated, regretful altercation, I'd stalked downstairs to my bedroom and slammed the door. A few hours later I'd told them I was going back to Toledo to visit family._

_They had no idea I was all the way across the country, hunting a wendigo in Montana. Montana of all places! I hadn't even told Dean where the hunt was supposed to be, or the reason I'd wanted to go other than to gank some cannibalistic monster. This wendigo had eaten my best friend's parents, and I wanted to give her real revenge, even if she couldn't understand it. And now the same thing that had taken her parents was going to take me._

_The claws of the wendigo slashed across my back just as I was pulling myself up to the edge of the embankment. A scream escaped my lips and echoed through the dense thicket of trees surrounding me. Blood poured, hot and sticky, from the gashes on my back. The pain blurred my vision and I could only see the outline of the wendigo when I turned, the sun casting its body in a black silhouette. It was about to strike me again when I heard a voice I thought I'd never get to hear again._

_“Kate!”_

_It was Dean. I could hear him running at full speed across the forest floor toward me, his voice full of concern, desperation, and anger at the same time. I used what little strength I had left to call out to him._

_“Dean! I'm down here!”_

_The wendigo screeched, cutting off any chance he had at hearing my last sentence, and its claws dug into my shoulder, pitching me back into the river. The cold shocked me, but as it created more blistering pain in my wounds I tried to fight the water in my lungs, but eventually everything around me kept getting darker. My head managed to breach the surface, and I sucked in a breath, screaming again._

_“Dean!”_

 

I woke up then, the echo of my utterance still reverberating around my room in the bunker. It was pitch black, and ghastly hot. My pillow was cold with sweat and I had kicked the covers down to the foot of my bed. I sat up and unstuck my shirt from my chest and tried to steady my breathing. The scars on my back were pulsating and the usual calming techniques for these kinds of nightmares weren't working. I leaned forward, squeezing my eyes shut, but nothing was helping.

My heart was still racing and I was now hyperventilating. I called for Dean again, but barely a breath escaped me when I tried. A hand clutched my throat, the other white-knuckling my sheets. These panic attacks had gotten worse and worse over the few weeks since that hunt, and I didn't know how to deal with them. Tears were now streaming down my face as I gasped for breath. I wiped the moisture off my face, running a shaky hand through my tangled mess of a mane and sucked in one, trembling lungful of air.

The door suddenly burst open, light from the hallway spilling in. I looked up and saw the black silhouette of a tall figure and I let out a whimper, trying to back away. My fear-soaked brain had thought it to be a wendigo, but as the figure moved into the light I saw Dean's face. He moved quickly to my side, a warm hand sliding across my shaking shoulders. He barely had time to sit down before I clung to him like I was dying all over again.

“Katie. Katie calm down, you're okay. I'm here, you're okay,” Dean said, his hands running through my chaotic nest of hair at a smooth rhythm, slowly untangling every small knot. I had my face buried in his chest and the deep buzz of his voice in my ear allowed me to regain some composure. He kept up with telling me, “You're okay, you're safe, it's okay.” As I listened to his voice, the violent drumming in my head started to slow.

My vice grip on his back loosened and his hands grazed down to my back, holding me gently as I pulled back to arm's length. I hurriedly wiped the tears from my eyes and looked away. The expression on his face made my cheeks burn with embarrassment. I looked down and closed them, trying to keep more tears from dripping down my face. One violent wipe of my face and the tears ceased.

Dean's hand skimmed up my arm and it rested on the side of my face, pulling my head around to look at him. As I met his eyes, his features soft and comforting in the dim light, I felt my heart ache for him. He shouldn't have to rush to my aid every time I called his name, I should be able to handle this kind of crap on my own. Hell knew he'd been through so much worse. So had I. It was just something about that hunt that had stuck with me.

“I heard you call out my name. Was it the same nightmare?” he asked, his voice hushed.

I nodded, averting my gaze to anywhere but his face again. I took a shaky, deep breath before speaking. “It feels like I'm there, every damn time.” I paused, looking back up at him. “I want it to stop.”

Dean nodded now, his hands brushing up and down my arms a little. “I know, I know.”

“If it weren't for you, I'd be dead right now.” Both of my hands raised to cup his face. “I'm sorry,” I stuttered, my lips trembling on the apology. “I'm so sorry Dean.” Tears began leaking out of my eyes again and I closed them, trying to fight back the emotion. My hands wrapped themselves around my arms and I hunched forward, my head hitting his chest gently.

“Hey, hey.” One hand mussed up the hair at the back of my head and the other found my face, his thumb stroking my cheek. He gently raised me upright again, inclining his face toward mine. “Don't apologize to me, it's my job to protect you.”

I shook my head lightly, my hand matching his on the side of my face. I nuzzled into it, a mix of emotions pooling right under my chin like a scream. I wanted to say so many things to him now. I'd had so many thoughts, so many passing ideas that I was too afraid to utter. But hearing him say it was his job to protect me, and I knew he felt the same about his brother, it sent me over the edge.

“It shouldn't have to be!” The volume of my own voice startled me and I felt Dean's fingers twitch in surprise. I opened my eyes then, looking at him hard. “It shouldn't have to be your responsibility to look out for me. I should have the sense to look out for myself if I'm going to live this life, and you shouldn't have to put yourself at risk to keep me alive!” I paused, lowering my voice now, the deep cutting feeling of regret stabbing me in the chest. “I will not have you end up like my sister.”

Dean moved to interrupt me, but I cut him off as his mouth opened.

“You are so important Dean, more important than anyone I know. You've given _so_ much already, and you keep giving more even when you don't have anything left to give. You've given everything since you were four years old, and I'm tired of knowing you have no one to rely on. You can't rely on anyone anymore other than yourself, and you always have to take care of everybody else. Nobody ever takes care of you, and I'm fucking sick of it. You deserve all of what you give out, and then some, and I want to give it back. I don't want you to feel responsible for my life, and I don't want you to end up dying trying to protect me! Okay? I want to take care of you for once. You shouldn't have to come rushing to my side every time I get a nightmare. I should be the one coming to you when you need help. I should be the one saving your life. You've saved mine more than times than I can even count. You've been saving me since we met. You've given enough Dean. I mean it.”

I stared at him, now realizing my hands were on his face again, my fingers almost pressing into his jaw. His face was one of shock, but it was paralyzed too. It was almost like he didn't know what to do with what I'd just said. Like no one had ever said all of that to him before and sincerely meant it, or he'd never really heard them before. I knew Sam felt similarly to me, but I don't think he'd ever offered up that opinion to Dean fully and completely. And now that I had, I hoped he took it how I meant it.

He opened his mouth and looked at me, still at a loss for what to say. So he didn't say anything.

In a rush Dean pressed his lips to mine, nearly knocking me back on the bed. His hands were on my face and in my hair. My eyes closed and held his face as we kissed, each others' face in our hands. Dean's kiss was passionate, and in a way thankful. Because he didn't know what to say, he had to show me what he was feeling. The way our mouths moved together, it was like our brains were on the same frequency. We just, fell back into each other like so long ago. Each tiny movement was reciprocated in that kiss, and when he pulled back, I don't think either of us opened our eyes.

He and I were out of breath, and Dean rested his forehead on mine, his hands sliding back into my hair. I could feel his breath tickle my face and I gently rubbed his scratchy stubble with my thumbs. His lips rested on my forehead briefly before he looked down at me, our heads together again.

“Kit Kat,” he breathed, a smirk pulling up the corner of his mouth. I smiled at him, his little pet name for me always making me grin. “I don't think you know...” He let the rest of his breath out in a huff, unable to find the words. I knew he wasn't good with all of this mushy stuff, so I just let him take his time. “Protecting you... I don't... ugh. I don't do it because I have to, I do it because I want to. I need to.”

I cocked an eyebrow, pulling back a little to see his face better. “What?”

“I need to protect you. Because if something happened to you...” He trailed off, eyes boring into mine. I couldn't imagine all the scenarios playing around in his mind, causing him pain. I could guess one, I could guess a thousand. But the one that put that expression on his face... I could bet it was probably the same one I'd dreamt about. I studied him for a second, my eyes darting to every freckle that bespeckled his gorgeous face and I couldn't help but blush at him. Dean's lips touched mine again and he kissed me, and this time it felt different. It was more gentle, but it was full of longing. I could feel him pulling my face closer to his and I pulled him by the neck closer to me.

We broke apart and he breathed, “I don't know what I would do.”

I scooted closer to him, hugging him tightly to me. His arms wrapped around my back and he pulled me closer, one leg on top of his. “I don't know what I would do either,” I murmured back. We pulled away from each other and our hands found each other. “Will you stay here tonight?”

Dean just nodded. I gave him a long, drawing kiss on the cheek and crawled back up to the side of the bed I'd been sleeping on. Dean closed the door to my bedroom and soon found me under the covers, one hand draped over my side, the other playing in my hair. I breathed a laugh and snuggled closer to him, his legs tangling in mine. We laid like that for another half an hour, not saying a word and eventually I drifted into a dreamless, calm sleep.

I have the feeling he stayed up for a little while longer, just playing in my hair and listening to me breathe. 


End file.
